


(Still) Not in the Petticoat Line

by laallomri



Series: Acing Literature [2]
Category: Cotillion - Georgette Heyer, HEYER Georgette - Works
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/M, ace freddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laallomri/pseuds/laallomri
Summary: Aunt Augusta is mean, Kitty is distressed, and Freddy heroically comes to the rescue (albeit in his nightshirt)





	(Still) Not in the Petticoat Line

Mr Standen woke with less than his usual amiability, for—as he discovered when he groped for his pocket-watch on the side table—there was really no reason a man ought to rise at four in the morning.

Appalled by his body’s temerity in rousing him at such an hour, Mr Standen replaced his pocket-watch and reached for his wife in hopes that her warmth would help him return to the land of Nod. To his dismay, however, he found that his sudden awakening was due to the absence of that lovely individual.

He sat up, knuckling his eyes and frowning into the dark room. She was nowhere nearby, which caused him no little alarm; it was her room, after all, and even after three years of marriage they always slept side-by-side if he had come to her in the evening.

After a moment’s pondering he threw back the sheets and hurried to his room, quite neglecting his robe. He regretted the oversight the instant he crossed the threshold, for his chamber was stone-cold. He spotted his wife sitting cross-legged upon his bed and, relieved to see that she did not appear to be hurt, began to protest the lack of a fire.

Upon approaching her, however, he immediately forgot his discomfort, as his poor lady was sobbing into her arms as though her heart were breaking. 

Without a moment’s thought he sat beside her and gathered her into his arms, alarmed by the intensity of her tears. 

“Kit?” he asked worriedly, speaking directly into her ear. He kissed the tip of it. “Kit, what’s wrong? Aren’t ill, are you? Or in pain?”

“N-no,” she managed, burying her face in his shirt and soaking it within seconds. “No, Freddy, I’m p-perfectly all right. You ought to go back to bed.”

He gave her a glance. Her little nose was positively rosy from all her crying, and even as he watched more tears slid down her cheeks. His heart ached a little.

“Reckon you ain’t all right at all,” he said sternly. “What’s amiss?”

“Oh, Freddy, it is s-silly, truly it is!” Kitty sniffed. “I shall be fine soon, I promise. I am sorry I woke you.”

“Ain’t silly if you’re crying over it,” he said. “You ain’t as silly a female as m’sisters, Kit; if you’re crying there’s a reason. What is it?”

Kitty sniffed again and he held her more tightly.

“I’ll fix it if you’d tell me,” he promised rather rashly. “Can’t bear to see you cry, Kit.”

“Well—” She paused and drew back to look up at him. “Dolph’s mama talked to me today at Meg’s party.”

Mr Standen reflected that this occasion alone was likely to bring the most hardened criminal to tears; however, as he suspected the true problem to be deeper than this, he simply prompted, “And?”

“She—she said that she was astonished to see that I wasn’t increasing yet—or rather, she _wasn’t_ astonished, because”—she hid her face in his shirt again—“because it’s obvious that you aren’t—that you don’t—you know—and that it must be my fault.”

Years of experience disentangling his mother’s speeches meant Freddy comprehended Kitty’s meaning within seconds. The desire to march over to Aunt Augusta’s townhouse and knock down her door was only barely overridden by the more sensible and less-likely-to-get-him-arrested desire of contradicting what the old hag had said.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know I think you’re awfully pretty, Kit,” he said. “And I—” He swallowed the faint flush of guilt at saying something so improper and took the plunge. “I take great pleasure in sleeping in your room.”

“I know _that_!” she said, sounding almost cross. She looked up at him once more and upon seeing his embarrassment her tone softened. At least she had stopped crying, and Freddy silently celebrated this victory. “It’s not exactly hard to notice.”

He reddened.

“And I don’t mind that I’m always the one to ask you to come to me, and that sometimes you’d rather not, but—” She sighed and started over. “Freddy, I’m just worried that everyone thinks as Aunt Augusta does! That you’re a husband who can’t or won’t or has no desire to please his wife, and that I’m some sort of harridan who can’t attract her own husband, and that we’ve become every other married pair in London who only tolerate each other for the sake of wealth and society!” At the end of this speech her lower lip trembled, heralding the advent of further tears.

Freddy loved his wife dearly, but this was far too much worrying for any hour, particularly for four in the morning. He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the remnants of her tears. “D’you know whose opinions I care about?”

Kitty just blinked.

“Yours,” he said firmly. “That’s all, Kit. Not Aunt Augusta’s or any other nosy busybody’s. Just yours.”

He kissed her and she smiled.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m worrying over nothing.” She gurgled a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m crying over something so inconsequential and unintimidating as Aunt Dolphinton’s opinion!”

Freddy has a sneaking suspicion that his wife was laughing at him in the previous statement, but he settled for kissing her again and leading her back into his room.

.^.

A week later Kitty discovered just why she had been so emotional over something that normally would only cause her mild annoyance.

Lord and Lady Legerwood were delighted at the prospect of another grandchild, as was Meg at the idea of Freddy finally being forced to hold a baby (he was always on some mysterious errand whenever either of her children needed distracting). Dolph’s excitement manifested in a five-page letter bursting with congratulations and far too many exclamation points, and Hugh, predictably, sent a picture book called _Baby’s First Bible_ (“ain’t due for six months,” grumbled Freddy, “and he’s already sent the baby reading material”). Jack snorted and rolled his eyes and looked generally unimpressed by the length of time it took for such an event to occur, and Aunt Augusta was reported to have sniffed and loudly declared that _someone_ ought to keep on eye on Mrs Standen, for the suddenness of the announcement indicates that _something_ is amiss.

But the only opinion Kitty cared about was Freddy’s (though she did bristle at the implication of Aunt Dolphinton’s words), and for weeks she carried in her mind the image of his face: frozen, eyes wide, mouth half-open, then bright, fierce delight, with a smile to rival the one she had seen on their wedding day.

Aunt Dolphinton, she decided, could go hang.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] (Still) Not In The Petticoat Line](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775988) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




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